Sisyphus, or the Captive King
by SSJ Leia
Summary: Condemned to roll a boulder forever up a hill in the Underworld, Sisyphus curses the gods and plots his escape. Will he succeed, or will he become reconciled to his fate? Also features Glaucus, Bellerophon, Merope, Thanatos. Complete!
1. Prologue and Act One

A/N: This is the second play I've attempted to write. The dialogue is in blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter), and the choral songs are rhymed iambic tetrameter. Although I find it hard to write in verse, I also feel like it captures best the spirit of the ancient Greek tragedies, which I've tried to mimic here. I count among my influences Albert Camus's "The Myth of Sisyphus" which was the first work that I know of to portray Sisyphus as the existential hero, and also Aeschylus's "Prometheus Bound."

If you like it, please leave a review.

-Leia

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"_So with a broken throne, the great gods mock that captive king; so like a Caryatid, he patient sits, upholding on his frozen brow the piled entablatures of ages. Wind ye down there, ye prouder, sadder souls! question that proud, sad king! a family likeness! aye, he did beget ye, ye young exiled royalties; and from your grim sire only will the old state-secret come." -- __Herman Melville, Moby-Dick_

SISYPHUS, or THE CAPTIVE KING

_Dramatis Personae:_

THANATOS, god of death

SHADE of a fallen soldier

CHORUS of shades

SISYPHUS, former king of Corinth

GLAUCUS, son of Sisyphus and Merope

a KER, or spirit of violent death

BELLEROPHON, son of Glaucus and grandson of Sisyphus

GERAS, god of old age

MEROPE, wife of Sisyphus; one of the Pleiades

The setting is Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld, where SISYPHUS has been condemned to roll a boulder to the top of a hill for the rest of eternity. Every time he nears the top, the rock rolls back down to the bottom and he must start over.

_Enter THANATOS, an imposing black-robed figure bearing a sword and an inverted lantern. He leads the SHADE of a young fallen soldier draped in a white burial shroud. The SHADE pauses for a moment and peers into the darkness, where the shadow of the condemned man is visible. THANATOS turns to him impatiently._

THANATOS

What faltering is this? The time to make delays

has passed. You should have slowed your steps

before you paid the Boatman's fare and crossed

the waters of the Acheron, and ere

your shrouded body burned to ashes on

its fun'ral pyre. No man comes willingly

into this realm, but none that ever lived

has long avoided his descent. Already

your scalded bones lie cold within their tomb.

This final hesitation is in vain;

make haste – ahead awaits the deathly plain.

SHADE

Lord Thanatos, I beg thy pardon; I

would never dare to seek escape from thee.

But only let me ask one question, ere

what little breath I have hath fled away

and left me without speech, and ere my mind

and memories have, like my body, turned

to dust and smoke. Who is he, there within

the shadowed depths, who rolls with phantom hands

his boulder ever up the hill, but watches

it fall again each time it nears the crest?

THANATOS

Avert your eyes and pay him no regard.

Even the pity of a shade, though faint

and subtle as the softest breeze upon

the brow, is solace more than he deserves.

SHADE

Please tell me only who he is, and why he

hath earned a darker fate than other men.

THANATOS

He once was called King Sisyphus of Corinth,

although his wicked actions make me loathe

to grant he ever wore that crown. He robbed

and killed his palace guests, and hating e'en

his very kin, conspired against his brother

and forced his banishment. And as he showed

no sympathy nor courtesy to man,

so too he showed the gods no reverence:

he interfered when Zeus himself, the king

of high Olympus, whose acts no pious man

would dare to judge, seduced the fair Aegina.

Yet all of this was not enough to damn

him to his special torment – he would have shared

the painless fate of ordinary men,

who drift unconscious on the sunless fields,

had not he twice rebelled against his death.

He seemed to think himself a god, that he

might choose to leave the plains of Asphodel

and triumph o'er his body's mortal frailty.

When I commanded that he follow me

to Hades' kingdom he resisted me

and bound my hands in mine own shackles,

and after I was freed to claim his shade

again he planned with his accomplice wife

a clever ruse to trick the Maiden, pale

Persephone, that she would let him leave

the Underworld and breathe the Earthly air.

For this, more than his other crimes, he was

condemned to bear his unremitting burden.

SHADE

This punishment is harsh, even for one

so impious. He must regret his sins.

THANATOS

He is too proud; in all the time since he

descended here at last, dragged down in chains,

he has not once repented. The only words

that leave his mouth are curses. As he wished

to be immortal, let his torment be.

Come with me, shadow, to your own doom;

give thanks to all the gods that you will but

decay and fade, and that your pain will end.

SHADE

I follow, yet I feel for him a trace

of sympathy – my final sentiment.

Whate'er he hath become, or he hath been,

we both have lived and died as mortal men.

_Exit THANATOS, leading the SHADE. Enter the CHORUS of shades, singing somberly. They are wrapped in white burial shrouds, some of which are stained with blood. As new arrivals to the Underworld, they are still – at least for now – able to retain their voices and sentience._

CHORUS

_Strophe_

O gods, hear this my threnody;

O Fates that cut my mortal thread

To cast me hither, pity me

Who joins this chorus of the dead.

Where are the Islands of the Blessed

Whose visions eased my dying fears?

Where is the sweet impending rest

That stemmed my mourners' bedside tears?

What judge at what unearthly bar

Will portion my rewards to come

When naught but children's paintings are

The flowers of Elysium?

Farewell to peace and joy; farewell

To all but plains of asphodel;

Of pale-bloomed asphodel.

_Antistrophe_

My lifeless body was consumed

In fun'ral flames, my flesh destroyed;

My bones and ashes lie entombed

And now within this lightless void

My last quintessence hath begun

To fade: my conscious mind grows dim

And mem'ries loosen one by one

Like leaves from a decaying limb.

My tearless eyes have sunk and dried,

My bloodless cheeks are pale, and fast

My breath is fading, every sigh

Of grief one closer to my last.

The flesh does not the soul intern

For nothing lingers when it burns;

We vanish when it burns.

_Strophe_

I miss the sun whose warming beams

Would make the winter noontides thaw;

I miss the moon whose tender gleam

Could midnight's darkness overawe.

I grieve for all I left above

This lifeless realm, and even mourn

For things I never knew I loved:

The thistle and the rose's thorn,

Cold falls of rain that soak the ground

And turn to marsh the springtime glades,

Wild vines that twist themselves around

The temples' marble collonades.

I would the gods my fate forgive

If I could but a moment live;

A briefest moment live.

_Antistrophe_

O Father, thou whom once I laid

With mine own hands beneath thy tomb

And carved thy epitaph; thy shade

Now wanders nameless in the gloom.

Sweet Mother, dost thou know my face?

Thou ever wouldst console my fears,

But thy soft flesh and warm embrace

Have faded with thy breath and tears.

And at my graveside, children mine,

All your libations are in vain:

No sweetest oil nor purest wine

Would let me hold ye once again.

Your company was ever worth

All of the sorrows of the Earth;

The pains I bore on Earth.

_Epode_

But who is he, disgraced and chained,

That rolls yon boulder up the hill

With calloused hands and muscles strained

Against its massive weight, until

It slips and thunders down once more?

Lord Sisyphus, once Corinth's king,

Now slavelike his eternal chore

Sustains, and yet unwearying

He raises his defiant eyes

And with his still unfading breath

Hurls boasts into the distant skies

And curses to the god of Death.

'Tis vain, thou fallen royalty,

And o'er myself I pity thee;

This shadow pities thee.

_The shade of SISYPHUS now comes into full view. He appears to be an aged man with a graying beard. He is still dressed in his king's robes, but now they are tattered and little more than rags. Around his wrists are iron shackles connected by a chain. Before him, in a moment of temporary repose, sits the great rock, his everlasting burden. Despite his disgraceful condition he continues to bear himself with pride, even arrogance, when addressing the CHORUS._

SISYPHUS

_(contemptuous)_

Cease your lament; 'tis strident to mine ears.

CHORUS

Forgive our pity for thee, Sisyphus.

SISYPHUS

Away; I need no pity from the dead.

CHORUS

Thou needst it from the gods, but they have none.

SISYPHUS

I would refuse it even if they had.

CHORUS

What foolish words are these; thou art too proud.

SISYPHUS

What have I left, within this place, but pride?

CHORUS

But 'twas thy pride that brought thee here. If thou

hadst willingly accepted death, thou wouldst

have known at least a gentler doom; thy voice,

thy mind and consciousness, thy memories

of pain and sorrow would have faded out

and left thee but a drifting shadow, like

the smoke that dissipates from fun'ral pyres.

Instead thy misery must never end.

SISYPHUS

Then let it never end; how craven must

you think me, that I would envy smoke and shadows?

CHORUS

We do not think thee craven, but too bold.

No soul that ever sank to Tartarus

hath been so overconfident as thee;

their punishments have burned their pride away.

SISYPHUS

My pride is fire itself – it cannot burn.

CHORUS

It will at last, for thou art only mortal.

None but the gods can bear a punishment

like thine without despair. Thou hast not been

here long; the years will pass, and then a time

will come when thou wilt seek our consolation.

SISYPHUS

_(Enraged by the words of the chorus)_

What right have you to reprimand me, ghosts?

Am I so far debased that I should feel

ashamed before a crowd of phantoms, and drop

my gaze before their sunken eyes? You are

but shadows, and your words are shadow-words

that fade like etchings on a weathered tomb.

Yes, I am mortal too – and yet while all

your living traits are lost, mine are retained:

your flesh has melted into mist, while mine

is firm; your memories are fading, while

no drop of Lethe's stream has touched my lips.

As I was king on Earth, so I am king

in Tartarus – for I am still a man.

Although mine emptied veins no longer pulse,

yet something in them makes my bloodless heart

beat with defiance, and every time it sounds,

though soft as muffled drops of rain, I feel

as though it shakes the gods enthroned in Heaven.

Let their immortal flesh turn pale to hear

it; let it make them tremble head to toe.

Wherefore this condemnation? What crime did I

that they have never done – what murder and

what robbery; what trick and what seduction?

The gods cared nothing for my paltry sins.

I culled their rage when I deceived them – when

I fastened Thanatos in chains and fooled

the queen of Hades, and when I twice escaped

my death to stay within the living world.

What indignation! – that mortal Sisyphus

had overcome the gods and spurned their will!

They damned me here to salve their honor, but

'twas something more than shame that fueled their wrath:

my challenge frightened them, and they interned

me in defense, as once the lord of all

Olympus, Zeus, had feared his father's might

and bound him in the deepest vales of Hell.

What fools – this punishment itself is my

apotheosis: though I am mortal, yet

they have condemned me like a god! The curse

that sank me here has lofted me above

their heads; I call this rock my subject world,

these iron chains my gilded wristlets, this sweat

upon my brow my heavenly annointment!

No kingly accolade could more exalt me!

O ye abraded hands! O flesh that tears

but sheds no blood; O bones that plead to break!

Bear up your burden proudly, like a scepter!

My heart, forever sound thy rebel's march!

Unstifled voice, suppress thy wearied sighs,

and breathe thou naught but curses to the gods!

And you – you dogs on high Olympus, heed me:

beware your captive; beware King Sisyphus!

Let every mortal 'neath his gravestone lie,

yet this I vow:_ I_ was not born to die!

CHORUS

These words are like a madman's, Sisyphus.

What futile boasts are these? Dost thou believe

that thou canst yet escape thy punishment?

SISYPHUS

Do not discount my words. Have I not said

that I have twice been conquerer of death?

My victory will come again. Three Fates

control men's destinies: one weaves the thread

of life; one measures it; one cuts it short;

and so three times shall I defy their shears,

until I make my destiny mine own.

CHORUS

Is this the truth? Art thou convinced thou wilt

recross again the river of the dead?

SISYPHUS

I vow I will achieve it, and deceiver

though I have been, my promises are worth

all of the misted waters of the Styx.

Before this rock has rolled one hundred times

down its incline, I will have breathed again

the living air, and seen the golden sun.

CHORUS

Be cautious, Sisyphus; thou art disgraced

and angry, and we think these haughty claims

are but a momentary recklessness.

But look; another shade approaches thee.

--

_If Sisyphus seems like a self-centered jerk, it's because he is...whatever good qualities he might also possess. In the next act, he speaks with the shade of his son, Glaucus._


	2. Act 2

A/N: The second act took longer than I expected – I've had a lot to do for school lately. But here it is. Sisyphus confronts his son, Glaucus, and some family squabbling ensues. Also, I've added a pronunciation guide at the end of this act, because the House of Sisyphus does contain some rather odd names.

I would love more reviews, so if you happen to read this, please tell me what you think.

--Leia

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_Enter the shade of GLAUCUS, eldest son of Sisyphus. He is still a young man, in his thirties or late twenties. He is draped in a bloodstained burial shroud and bears deep gashes on his face and arms. He is led by a KER, a female spirit of violent death. She is winged and robed in black, and her fingers end in bloody claws._

GLAUCUS

Where is my father, Sisyphus, the loathed

and wicked criminal who brought this doom

upon the royal house of Corinth? Thou

deathly and violent spirit, I only ask

I be allowed to see him one more time

before I follow thee into the dark,

that I might use my final breath to curse him.

KER

He bears his sentence in yon shadowed vale,

where gapes the maw of Tartarus to whelm

its prisoners. Make your farewell with haste.

GLAUCUS

'Tis no farewell that I intended to make,

but an arraignment. I implore the gods,

if still they see me in this gloom, to hear

my words and make his torment even worse.

_GLAUCUS approaches SISYPHUS, who does not yet recognize him. The CHORUS takes an interest in the newcomer._

CHORUS

Who art thou, youthful soul, ill-starred

And futureless? We understand

Thy death was violent, for thy scarred

And mutilated limbs and hands

Yet seep cold blood upon thy shroud.

How met thou this untimely end?

Wert thou a soldier, slain but proud,

Who died thy home and city to defend?

GLAUCUS

I would that I had died at war,

So that my mangled heart might rest

At peace beneath its tombstone, for

The slain upon the field are blessed

And something more than ash become:

Although their souls descend below

Their fame remains above, and from

Their graveside soil do crimson flowers grow.

CHORUS

Perhaps thou wast a villain who

Was put to death, thy body scorned

And left for feral dogs to chew,

Thy life and memory unmourned.

And yet despite thy bloodied guise

Still something in thy bearing hints

Of royalty, and in thine eyes

A sunken pride remains – wast thou a prince?

GLAUCUS

'Twas so; I was but newly crowned

the ruler of a grand domain:

A rich and lauded city bound

On two sides by the silver main,

Across whose waves the silhouettes

Of ships at dawn would softly glide

As from the tow'ring parapets

I watched the busy ports and changing tide.

CHORUS

Then wast thou by a rival slain,

A wicked and dishonest knave

Who planned by murder to obtain

thy throne and sink thee in thy grave?

Wert thou by poison tricked, or killed

By sword, or in an ambush caught,

As often royal blood is spilled

In such conspiracies and plots?

GLAUCUS

Not so; I was beloved by all

My realm, and had no cause to hide

From enemies who sought my fall;

I walked unguarded, at my side

My wife, Eurynome, whose hair

In golden locks lay soft and mild

Against my shoulder, in her care

Our son Bellerophon, my princeling child.

CHORUS

So blessed by the immortals' grace

Not many men can claim to be;

How came thou to this lightless place

When once the sun so fully shown on thee?

GLAUCUS

Hear you the vile and piteous truth:

By mine own blood I am undone.

I come here, slaughtered in my youth,

For naught but that I am a villain's son.

CHORUS

We do not understand this claim.

Who was thy sire; who dost thou curse?

GLAUCUS

He suffers yonder, and his name

Was Sisyphus – I would his fate were worse.

CHORUS

A son is disrespectful when

He dares his father to forsake.

GLAUCUS

I show respect to pious men.

Be silent, ghosts, and mark the charge I make.

_SISYPHUS at last seems to take notice of his son's shade. He speaks, his voice very cold._

SISYPHUS

Insolent child – ungrateful whelp that once

I called my son, and who still dares to call

me father – make your accusations, and

let Hell be our tribunal. Speak loudly, for

ten thousand curses from a phantom's mouth

have not the substance of the softest sigh.

Now – make your haste, before your breath is gone.

_GLAUCUS is somewhat taken aback by his father's harshness, but continues._

GLAUCUS

Then I shall speak; may all the gods that watch

from Heaven hear me. Above all others I

was skilled in chariot-racing, though I now

am shamed to say I learned the art from you.

My team of horses were the fastest in

all Hellas, and when I hosted funeral games

for Pelias, the king of Iolcus,

they were again the champions. But when

the final race was won and I emerged

to loose them from the chariot's restraints,

they flung themselves upon me like fanged beasts –

their strong hooves struck and slashed at me, trapped me

beneath them, and in their wild insanity

they tore my flesh away, devouring it

like untamed dogs. Naught but immortal will

could have so poisoned and misguided them.

I only showed the gods respect – my reign

was virtuous, my kingdom pious, and

my city's altars ever red with blood

and wine. But all Olympus hated you,

Father, and this was part of their revenge:

your crimes were too contemptible for e'en

your torment here in Hell to reimburse,

and they made me, your son, pay off your debt.

I beg the gods to pity me and know

that I am not a demon like my father.

CHORUS

We pity thee, even if they do not.

What answer gives thy father to this charge?

SISYPHUS

_(regarding Glaucus calmly)_

I see – you blame me for your fate. You think

the gods so rational, so evenhanded?

GLAUCUS

I do; they plan their vengeance and they curse

the men who slight and fail to honor them.

SISYPHUS

Aye, so they do, and yet not always men

who merit their contempt – what of yourself?

GLAUCUS

The fault is yours; they cut me down because

of you. There is no other explanation.

SISYPHUS

You underestimate their cruelty.

Perhaps they cursed you but for their delight.

GLAUCUS

But I was pious all my life. I showed

them nothing but esteem and reverence.

SISYPHUS

Do you believe the pious never die?

Look you at bit around the Underworld.

GLAUCUS

They die, but gently, in the peace of age.

SISYPHUS

_(his voice growing more bitter)_

To gently die is nonetheless to die.

GLAUCUS

'Tis better, for they live their nat'ral span.

SISYPHUS

You call it natural, when so few men attain it?

GLAUCUS

They reach it who have never cursed the gods.

SISYPHUS

No one that ever lived fits this description.

GLAUCUS

They do – you say this out of bitterness.

SISYPHUS

Then you have not been long enough on Earth.

GLAUCUS

You are to blame.

SISYPHUS

I, or your gentle gods?

GLAUCUS

E'en now you curse them!

SISYPHUS

Now more than ever.

GLAUCUS

I loathe to call you sire!

SISYPHUS

Then hold your tongue.

GLAUCUS

You cheated me –

SISYPHUS

Of one more living year?

GLAUCUS

Another thirty years!

SISYPHUS

How does it matter!?

_The father and son glare at each other, catching their breath. GLAUCUS seems taken aback and is momentarily at a loss for words. SISYPHUS continues, truly angry now, his voice even colder._

SISYPHUS

Why look you so dismayed? Did you expect

that I would be ashamed, remorseful – that

your sire would beg forgiveness from you, like

an old man on his deathbed? How are you,

_my_ son, so thoughtless, so mistaken? What

matters it if you die today, now in

your flowering youth, or as an aged man?

Still you must die, and what in those

few intervening years will render sweet

your final hour, as you descend here to

this hateful realm, your flesh dissolved, your form

a shell, whose only lifelike action is

to feed itself upon the flowers of

the dead? Wil't be your tender memories?

A moment after death they will dissolve away,

like sand in water, and no trace of them

will soothe your emptied heart. The years will pass

in hundreds and in thousands, and ere long

the choking weeds around your gravestone will

have climbed to such a height that none may read

the date inscribed upon its face. And what

of the immortal things you left behind?

How sweet will be the mourning tears of soft

Eurynome, when she grows old and dies

herself, within another man's embrace?

What glory will your handsome son impart

you, when his withered arms, too weak to hold

a sword, on his own fun'ral pyre are turned

to ash? How honored will your name remain

when Corinth burns – as every city, just

as every man, must someday do, no matter

how heaven-blessed his youth? Will it be I

who steals these things away? If I so wronged

you, go to Thanatos and plead your case;

ask him to send you back above, only

to claim you once again when your brief time

is up. Make you the kind of bargain that

a slave might with his master make. I do

not bargain. I have tricked, imprisoned and

deceived, but I have never compromised.

And I would sooner be forever dead

and still a man, than living like a beast

that breathes but at its keeper's pleasure – like

a battered dog whose master any hour

might turn on it and strangle it to death.

Depart my presence, dog – slink you away

to living realms above or Hell below.

The plucked bloom and the aged bloom both decay,

nor smells one sweeter 'neath the winter's snow –

and men that die tomorrow and today

must only to the selfsame shadows go.

CHORUS

Our minds are turned; we know not which of ye –

the father or the son – is in the right.

_GLAUCUS stares at his father, dismayed by his unexpected outburst._

SISYPHUS

Why stand you mutely, cur? I said to leave.

GLAUCUS

_(quietly)_

Father, I know not what response to make.

SISYPHUS

Then go; return to Earth or fade away.

You've cursed me; was that not your dying wish?

_The KER steps forward and beckons to GLAUCUS; the young man's time is up._

GLAUCUS

Not yet…

SISYPHUS

What more have you to say to me?

GLAUCUS

Oh Fates, not yet…

SISYPHUS

Speak you, or fade away.

GLAUCUS

_(finally letting his façade of angry confidence fall away)_

I – I cannot bear it – the earthly world – O Father,

I cannot bear to give it up! I died

and mourners grieved one man, and yet to me

the world is dead, and I must grieve it all:

my city, whose somber people sing my dirge;

Eurynome, whose sun-beloved hair

must now be shorn and veiled in grief for me,

and in whose arms our orphaned boy must strive

to bravely stem his tears and comfort her!

And sweet my mother, who shrouds her violet hair

and shines the faintest of her sisters in

the stars – how much she misses you – must wane

yet dimmer now that I am dead as well.

O Father, I wish I never had been born.

I curse thee not for killing me, but that

thou gave'st me life, and let me know the world.

_The KER beckons again, and begins to approach him, its clawed hands extended._

GLAUCUS

No, no – thou demon child of Nyx, not yet!

O unseen Heavens, grant me one more moment!

but one more breath, one movement of mine hands!

SISYPHUS

Enough. Do not disgrace yourself yet further.

GLAUCUS

_(reaching out to him)_

Then but forgive me for my foolish words.

If I must die let me make peace with thee.

SISYPHUS

But you made war with me. I'll not forgive it.

GLAUCUS

I never disrespected thee. I mourned

thy death and poured libations at thy grave;

I gave thee rites –

SISYPHUS

And yet you cursed my shade.

GLAUCUS

_(desperate)_

Father, I beg thy pardon for my words.

No longer do I blame thee for my fate.

I think that sorrow drove me mad, and that

I said to you what I should not have said.

I wished to curse thee ere I fade away,

but now I only plead for thy forgiveness!

SISYPHUS

I never have forgiven enemies.

GLAUCUS

I am thy son, and not thine enemy!

SISYPHUS

_(cold and unmovable)_

Away. You cursed me with your final breath;

you were my son in life, but not in death.

_GLAUCUS stares at his father, completely distraught, before reluctantly returning to the KER, who leads him away into the darkness._

* * *

A/N: I suppose I feel a little sorry for Glaucus, even though he was being a brat. I think he reacted as anyone would who has been suddenly torn away from everything he knows and faced with the loss of his self – he naturally lashes out, at least at first. But Sisyphus is too proud to forgive him.

In the next act, Sisyphus gets another visiter – this time his grandson (yes, grandson) Bellerophon.

---

Pronunciation Guide:

I had to look a lot of this up; I knew Sisyphus but not much else. It's pretty crucial to know when you're writing in verse. Greek names tend to put the emphasis on the 3rd syllable from the last, so in a 3-syllable name, it would be on the first. If I'm mistaken about any of these, please feel free to correct me.

Sisyphus: SIS-uh-phus

Thanatos: THAN-a-tos

Glaucus: Either GLOW-kus (rhymes with now) or GLAW-kus; I'm not sure which

Eurynome: Yoo-RIN-uh-mee

Bellerophon: Bell-ER-uh-phon

Geras: GEE-rus

Merope: MER-oh-pee


	3. Act 3

A/N: This act took me longer than I expected, too. Blame Bellerophon. I never intended for his story to be so long. But I felt like it needed to be told – first, because I can't assume, like the ancient Greeks could, that my audience is already familiar with the story (I didn't even know it myself, prior to this), and second, because there's no way Sisyphus could know it without being told. All in all, I think it turned out okay; I twisted it a little bit and tried to hint at what was really underlying Bellerophon's dissatisfaction with life and his fascination with Pegasus.

Enjoy. And if you happen to feel the urge to leave a review, I hope you give in to it. :)

-- Leia

* * *

_GLAUCUS stares at his father, completely distraught, before reluctantly returning to the KER, who leads him away into the darkness. The CHORUS addresses SISYPHUS._

CHORUS

This treatment of thy son was harsh. Should not

a father be forgiving toward his child?

SISYPHUS

Not toward a child that curses and insults him.

CHORUS

Dost thou not pity him his gruesome death?

SISYPHUS

_(irritated)_

He would have had the pity of the gods

ere mine! None slights me without consequence –

not god nor mortal, nor the faintest shade!

CHORUS

We meant thee no offense, Lord Sisyphus.

What pride thou hast: it seems thou still regardst

thyself a king, e'en here among the dead.

SISYPHUS

Aye – while I have a mind and self, I shall

be king o'er you. Heed my decree and fade

from sight; I weary of your company.

_Time passes as the CHORUS begins to sing somberly. We see Sisyphus continuing to roll his boulder up the incline._

CHORUS

_Strophe_

How choose ye when to cut the thread

Of life, and how a man will die,

O Fates – how choose ye when and why

His shade must join the drifting dead?

For whether murdered by disease,

Swift-ravaging or long concealed,

Or killed upon the bloody field

Beneath the sword of enemies,

A man lives but the span allowed

By what designs ye wove and spun

For him, and when his thread is done

The cloth becomes his burial shroud.

_Antistrophe_

A man of aged years assigned

To death confronts his fate with least

Regret, for though his heart has ceased

Its beating, yet he leaves behind

His family and house secure,

Remembrances of glory won,

Sweet daughters and exalted sons

To help his legacy endure.

His dying sigh betrays relief,

For now will end the bitter pains

And crippling illness he sustains;

The final ache of death is brief.

_Strophe_

But when a youthful soul is torn

From life, like flowers from a limb

In stormwinds, he resents the grim

Dominion of the dead, and scorns

The whispers of the phantom choir

That greet him by the River's flow;

He prays to live again, although

His corpse lies burnt upon its pyre.

His infant children wail and weep

Beside his wife, scarce but a maid,

As in the earth where he is laid

Sweet wine and bitter teardrops seep.

_Antistrophe_

And yet no shade that sees the shore

Of Acheron does not lament

His cheerless fate and sad descent

To Hades' realm, and all deplore

Their waning breath and wasting skin,

For whether young or old, they yearn

To leave and to the Earth return.

We wonder then, ye Fates that spin,

What does it matter if ye doom

The aged and ill, or choose instead

Boys in their youth and girls unwed,

Or infants born into their tombs,

For whether broken or complete,

No life that ends in death is sweet;

Ye spin us not our lives – but winding-sheets.

_Enter the shade of BELLEROPHON, son of Glaucus and grandson of Sisyphus(1). __He is now an old, feeble, blind man dressed in rags. One of his legs is crippled and he walks with a cane. He is led by GERAS, god of Old Age – an elderly figure himself, bearded and dressed in a gray robe – who helps to steady him._

CHORUS

What aged newcomer doth Geras lead?

BELLEROPHON

_(appears shaky and confused, his voice weak and raspy)_

I hear it now – at last, at last! – the sweet

singing of ghosts. Where is the Lethe; have

we reached its banks? Where are the waters that

have cooled my feverish dreams a thousand nights?

Brother of Death, dost lead me there at last?

GERAS

'Tis seldom that a shade so eagerly

awaits the River of Forgetfulness.

BELLEROPHON

I will not ask, as some men do, for one

last glimpse of light – for all is dark to me,

above the earth and here below. I ask

but that thou leadest me, O gracious guide,

to Lethe's quiet shore – where is the Lethe?

GERAS

Have patience, shade; your long-sought river lies

ahead, before the Plains of Asphodel.

BELLEROPHON

Whither the chorus that I heard? Return,

ye sweetest choir, and sing me to the Lethe.

CHORUS

Sad stranger, we are here. Has death destroyed

thy sight, or wast thou blinded while alive?

BELLEROPHON

Mine eyes were crippled long before I died.

I beg ye sing again, ye ghosts – your voices

are more alluring than the Sirens with

their hair aglitter in the ocean's mist –

please sing me to the Lethe's quiet banks.

CHORUS

Phantom, although thy life was cursed,

Now all thy pain will fade away;

Thy memories must all decay

When in the cleansing flow immersed;

Go thither – Lethe's flow will slake thy thirst.

_SISYPHUS has been watching the newcomer, whom he does not recognize. He interrupts the CHORUS, feigning amusement but unable to keep all the contempt from his voice._

SISYPHUS

Who is this shade, so desperate to let death

swallow him that he begs the ghosts to sing

his elegy? Was he a man, or was

he but a shadow even while alive?

Finish your lullabies and let him answer.

BELLEROPHON

Whose words are these? Who speaks to me? This voice

is strong, and does not seem to be a ghost's.

SISYPHUS

'Tis not one.

BELLEROPHON

Art thou then a god or spirit?

SISYPHUS

Your sense is gone, old man. Were I a god,

I'd not be here with you among the dead.

BELLEROPHON

Nay, but perhaps thou art a god of death.

SISYPHUS

I cannot be; there are no gods of death –

not e'en the withered creature at your side.

BELLEROPHON

Thy words confuse me – what dost thou mean by them?

SISYPHUS

One cannot rule o'er what he cannot know.

Hence there are only gods that watch men die.

BELLEROPHON

Aye, they are deathless; for that I pity them.

SISYPHUS

How gracious and compassionate, to pity

the gods when they have never pitied you.

BELLEROPHON

They have; they pitied me to let me die.

SISYPHUS

And do you thank them for your blinded eyes

and crippled limbs; was this their pity too?

BELLEROPHON

I brought these injuries upon myself.

SISYPHUS

A most repentant soul! – what was your sin?

BELLEROPHON

I sought for what no mortal man may have.

SISYPHUS

That is a common crime; such things are countless.

BELLEROPHON

Aye, so they are – the thing I meant was peace.

SISYPHUS

The worst of all. Hoped you to find it here?

BELLEROPHON

After the Lethe drowns my memories.

SISYPHUS

_(growing impatient)_

In vain – 'twill drown your mind and self as well.

BELLEROPHON

Let them dissolve – I wish to lose them too.

SISYPHUS

There is no peace without a heart to feel it.

BELLEROPHON

Then I at least shall have no heart to ache.

SISYPHUS

_(now spiteful)_

In life, sirrah, were you a man or worm?

BELLEROPHON

What reason dost thou have to show me scorn?

SISYPHUS

You speak well for a worm, but crawl no better.

BELLEROPHON

I prithee let me pass, thou god or ghost.

SISYPHUS

_(turning his back)_

Be on your way, you craven wretch, and find

your peace. If not a worm before you died,

you must have been a slave.

BELLEROPHON

_(turning to continue on his way)_

I was a king.

SISYPHUS

_(after a long moment)_

Wait, shade.

BELLEROPHON

What more dost thou demand?

SISYPHUS

'Tis rare the phantom of a king descends

here so abased as you. How did you come

to end your life in this degraded way?

BELLEROPHON

Please, stranger – let me go. I wish to lose

my memories, not strengthen or relive them.

Do not ask me to tell thee of my past.

SISYPHUS

Speak, shade. Your sweet oblivion will wait

for you. But tell me briefly, and I shall judge

which memories are dark enough to drown.

CHORUS

Please, newcomer; we also wish to know

how such a base and wretched death befell thee.

Thou hast with thee no kingly ornaments –

no jeweled crown adorns thine ashen head,

nor golden bands thy limbs; thy dirtied skin

was never washed with perfumed oil, and for

thy burial clothes thou hast but tattered rags –

e'en beggars come here dressed in winding sheets.

It seems that no one tended to thy corpse,

but left it for the dogs and birds to scavenge.

BELLEROPHON

I was a king, but did not die as one.

CHORUS

Nay, stranger, nor even as a common man.

BELLEROPHON

I know not how much time has passed since last

I spoke to any soul – living or dead –

and I confess there is a solace in it.

My voice is feeble and unused, but I

shall try to speak before it fades away,

if when I finish ye shall sing me to

the Lethe's shore at last.

CHORUS

We shall do so.

_BELLEROPHON staggers closer to the CHORUS. He lowers his head and closes his blind eyes, concentrating. When he begins to speak his frail body trembles, as though summoning his memories causes him physical pain, but as he continues his voice grows stronger._

BELLEROPHON

Come, cursed and hated memories, to taunt

me one last time – come hither from this cold

and bloodless heart that you have helped to break.

And thou deceitful goddess, Mnemosyne(2),

I shall invoke thee, brutal though thou art:

when men are young, thy lovely maiden form

charms and delights them, yet in their old age

thou art a taloned Fury, tormenting them

in waking life and dreams, and haunting them

until they die, as thou hast done to me.

I once knew happiness, and I shall speak

of what created it. In the kingdom of

my youth there roamed a wild, unearthly horse,

called Pegasus – born of Medusa's blood,

and fierce and proud as she, but with the strength

and splendor of his sire, Poseidon. He

had wings like the celestial stallions

that pull the chariot of the sun, and hooves

that once had split the ground to summon forth

the sacred water pools on Helicon.

I glimpsed him first when I was still a child.

I was too young to rule as king, although

it was the summer that my father died.

His fire-white coat and mane were mirrored by

the water of a spring, just as the sea

reflects the sun, and when I dared approach

he gazed at me with eyes like lucent gems,

then leapt into the air and galloped through

the sky until he reached the plains above

the clouds. From that day forth I only wished

to catch and ride the winged horse, although

my father's celebrated stables housed

the swiftest horses in the mortal world.

I would imagine that the morning mists

through which my horses galloped were the wisps

of clouds, and in my dreams I used to see

the otherwordly fields where Pegasus

must graze – and how I yearned to go there, to

a place so different from the earthly world

where men and women lived, and where they died!

Yet though I tried a hundred times to grasp

the horse's iridescent mane, he seemed

to know me less than worthy of him, and

would never let me venture close enough.

At last the chaste Athena deigned to help me.

Appearing in a dream she gave to me

a golden bridle – for as Pegasus

was something more than mortal, only an

immortal gift could help me harness him.

And when I next approached the horse he looked

at me as though I were an equal, and

his gemlike eyes were softened with respect.

He let me place the bridle o'er his head

and climb upon his back, and then at last

he flew away with me into the clouds.

What glory Pegasus conferred on me;

how godlike I appeared while riding him!

I slew the monster Chimaera, daughter

of hateful Typhon, Zeus's rival, as

she prowled the hills of Lycia – for though

she swiped at me with lion's claws and lashed

her serpent's tail, and though her goatlike head

breathed flames that singed my robes, yet Pegasus

took flight and lofted me above her reach.

I thrust a leaden block into her mouth,

and melting in the creature's fiery breath

it filled her throat and suffocated her.

I overcame the barbarous mountain tribe,

the Solymoi, and next the women called

the Amazons, scorners of men, as fierce

and as formidable as grim Athena,

for fleet-winged Pegasus evaded all

the spears and arrows that they cast at me.

And for my deeds the king of Lycia,

gracious Iobates, divided his

domain with me and named me as his heir,

and granted me his lovely daughter's hand,

Princess Philonoe, who bore my children.

_(pausing for a moment, the slight smile that had formed on his mouth now fading)_

The winged stallion had brought me all

the riches in the mortal world. I ruled

o'er Lycia's exalted mountains and

its fertile plains, and o'er the valleys and

white-sanded coast. My subjects loved me for

my feats. My comely queen and darling sons

and daughters should have brought me joy. And yet

with age I grew but more dissatisfied.

I told ye, deathly chorus, that I sought

a thing no mortal man may have; that thing

was peace, and only now I realized

that I had never found it – even I,

most blessed of men – and that I never could.

I felt as though a shadow lay across

my kingdom, pooling 'neath its lovely things,

a dismal cast that I could not escape

e'en on the back of Pegasus. Like night

it overwhelmed the color in the world:

it painted shadows on Philonoe's

once-radiant face; it blanched the flowers in

the mountain meadows where my children played,

until they seemed to me like phantoms on

the Plains of Asphodel. Sometimes I felt

I had been happier in childhood, ere

I ever glimpsed the winged horse – for I

had something then that I no longer had.

I would to Heaven I knew what it was.

And there were times I felt I had awoken

and realized that it was all a dream –

all that had ever made me feel content.

One day I rode my stallion into

the sky, ascending to a greater height

than we had ever reached before. We flew

above the rugged peaks of Lycia

and over the Aegean islands, to

Olympus, lofty fortress of the gods,

that rises o'er the plains of Thessaly.

If what I sought existed anywhere,

in any world, it would be there within

the crystal palace on the mountain's summit,

for the immortals know no pain. But as

my horse began his swift ascent toward

the peak, the watching gods, resenting my

audacity, sent down a stinging fly

to bite and startle Pegasus. He threw

me, and I fell to Aleion, the bleak

and empty Plain of Wandering, and though

I wish that I had died, the impact only took

my sight and broke and bruised my limbs. I lay

for days in torment, praying Pegasus

might find my crippled body and return

me home to Lycia, but no one came.

And then I realized the shadow that had dimmed

my kingdom's loveliness had seized me too.

O ghosts, ye somber choir, be grateful that

ye lived and died as common men, for ye

at least could not have lost as much as I.

I wandered through my final years of life,

my blinded eyes and broken limbs beset

by unremitting pain, and though at first

I sought refuge with fellow men and women,

they scorned me as an enemy of Zeus,

and every city's gates repelled me, like

an exiled criminal. Mine outstretched fingers used

to touch the clouds; now even when I reached for

such earthly things as mortal hands, they cringed

away from me. My cruelest curse was not

my wounded body nor my sightless eyes,

but that the gods had left me strength enough

to live: I was expelled from Heaven and

from Earth, but I could not yet join the dead –

the only kingdom that might welcome me.

I learned to scavenge with the feral dogs

on moldered refuge thrown from city gates;

I slept with filthy rags for bedclothes when

my trembling told me that the sun had set.

I envied slaves and beggars – and more than they,

I envied men who died, and longed to join

them in the dark across the Acheron.

Too slowly I grew old and weak, until

my twisted body lost its final, faint

desire to live. I died exposed upon

the plain, without the rites of burial.

Though even executed prisoners

are cast into a common grave, yet I

was left alone, my only pallbearers

the dogs and carrion birds. When Geras touched

me with his deathly hand it was the first

contact that I had felt in years. He led

my phantom here, so close at last to those

kind waters that meander through my dreams –

the Lethe, River of Forgetfulness,

the only thing I ever should have sought!

Pegasus, thou wast but a fantasy,

and all the skies through which we soared

were naught but sweet illusions – the common dreams

of flight that all men have from time to time,

but only fools believe! I welcome death –

for here at least there are no dreams! What grief

is this? My memories grow vivid now;

they struggle like a drowning man to reach

the surface one last time ere sinking down.

Philonoe, my widowed, guiltless wife!

Sweet children mine, my handsome sons and fair

daughters, though I was grateful that ye could

not see me blind and lame, yet now I wish

my crippled arms could hold ye one last time!

O Father, now I follow thee, and yet

I shall not see thee here, and never could,

not even if my sightless eyes were healed;

not so – I never shall and never could!

_(sinking slowly to his knees, and raising his hands to his eyes)_

Mine eyes are dry – O tears, I beg ye come

once more – where are my tears, that even in

my blindness flowed to soothe my misery,

as falls of rain assauged my body's aches?

Now even they have left. But it is well;

another salve awaits me, and will taste

far sweeter. With my final trace of breath

I shall invoke no deity but one,

the saddest, wisest prophet(3), he that said

a man is blessed to ne'er be given birth,

or if condemned to life, to join the dead

with haste beneath the sorrows of the Earth.

CHORUS

Thou brokenhearted, weak and feeble is

the consolation of thy fellow shades,

and yet 'tis all we have to offer thee.

_SISYPHUS, who has been listening silently, hesitates a moment before addressing the old man._

SISYPHUS

Unhappy phantom, you have not cursed the gods.

BELLEROPHON

They cannot hear us in this place, and if

they could, my curses would not interest them.

SISYPHUS

You but amuse them when you go

so willingly to death. Where is your pride?

BELLEROPHON

Destroyed – it shattered with mine eyes and limbs.

SISYPHUS

_(angrily)_

Destroyed? Pride is not like one's flesh and bones –

it cannot be destroyed, unless one lets it.

You should have cursed the gods, condemned them for

your unjust fate. You should have kept your pride;

you would at least have been a man -- without it

you were already but a lifeless corpse.

BELLEROPHON

_(slowly getting to his feet, with the help of his cane)_

I cannot curse them when the fault was mine.

I was a fool to think that life can bring

men happiness, no matter how sublime

the fantasies I saw. I would that I

had recognized the winged horse for what

it was, and shunned it as a dream, the day

I placed the bridle o'er its head, beside

the weeping Pirene(4) at Corinth's gates.

SISYPHUS

_(with new interest)_

Old man, why do you speak of Corinth, when

you said that you were king of Lycia?

BELLEROPHON

By birth I was intended for the throne

of Corinth, but I left in exile when

I caused my brother's death unwittingly.

SISYPHUS

Who are you, shade; what was your father's name?

BELLEROPHON

His name was Glaucus; I was his eldest son.

SISYPHUS

This is a lie. Have you already lost

your sense, or do you mean to taunt me?

BELLEROPHON

I vow to thee I am Bellerophon,

the child of Glaucus and Eurinome.

SISYPHUS

_(dismayed; stepping as close to him as his chains will allow)_

Bellerophon...I saw you last when you

were yet an infant in mine own son's arms...

BELLEROPHON

_(his aged mouth at last forming a true smile)_

Thou art my father's father – Sisyphus!

SISYPHUS

How can it be that you are aged and dead?

BELLEROPHON

Thy death was long ago; my years are spent.

Perhaps, since thou art here where naught may change,

it seems to thee that little time hath passed.

SISYPHUS

Aye, but a lifetime...

BELLEROPHON

I never knew thee, Grandsire.

Thou died before I left my mother's arms.

SISYPHUS

I can recall the day she bore you to

my son, an infant prince...and you were swathed

in silk, just as you now are wrapped in rags...

BELLEROPHON

_(his smile becoming soft and wistful)_

I used to walk along the city streets

and hold her hand, she at my father's side.

I tripped once, and she helped me up, and as

she kissed me with her gentle lips, my sire

lifted me on his shoulders, where I rode

for the remainder of our promenade,

as proud as e'er I was on Pegasus.

SISYPHUS

Aye, prince; you were your father's greatest joy.

BELLEROPHON

Sometimes we climbed together Corinth's wall

to overlook the sea at sunset, and we watched

the ships approaching and departing in

the colored waters. I used to ask where they

were going, and my father used to tell

fantastic stories – to the edges of

the Earth, where one might gather with the dead,

or to the Hyperborean lands, where none

must age, or to a meeting with the gods –

and I would wish to journey there as well.

SISYPHUS

I used to tell my son such stories too.

BELLEROPHON

He died when I was still a child. I can

remember only instants with him, like

the images on an entablature:

the shield he taught me how to hold, though it

stood taller far than I; the first time that

he set me on a horse, its shoulders lofty as

Olympus' highest precipice; the little

cicada that I captured on the wall

for him, and that he laughed to see, but made

me feel as though it were the fiercest beast.

I prithee tell me of him, Grandfather.

SISYPHUS

Enough. Did you not curse your memories?

BELLEROPHON

I did; I had forgotten that there were

such sweet things hidden 'neath my bitter sorrows.

_Ancient GERAS reaches out a wrinkled arm to beckon his charge._

GERAS

Your time is up. The Lethe waits for you.

BELLEROPHON

Another moment –

GERAS

It is impossible.

BELLEROPHON

_(turning back to Sisyphus)_

I go to death, whether 'tis sweet or not –

perhaps that too was but a fantasy.

Farewell, Grandsire. I fear that one day thou

wilt see the wounded phantoms of my sons

and daughters, for they too are children of

the House of Corinth, cursed above all others.

Please tell them who thou art, and that I loved them.

I would give anything to speak with thee

of all the things I cherished while I lived,

but 'tis too late – my voice is leaving me,

my breath is gone, and I have naught to give.

_BELLEROPHON lowers his head and is led away by GERAS. SISYPHUS stares after him._

CHORUS

Dost thou feel pity for him, Sisyphus?

SISYPHUS

The gods can feel no pity – why should I?

CHORUS

Nay, they cannot; it is a mortal thing,

as natural and common to all men

as death, to pity one who lost so much.

SISYPHUS

I've naught to do with mortal things; the gods

made certain of that when they cast me here.

CHORUS

He was your grandchild, descendant of your house,

cursed by Olympus, just as thou wast cursed.

Thou must feel pity –

SISYPHUS

Enough! It matters not.

What use has pity, but to weaken me?

Do you imagine I have never grieved,

nor felt despair, nor learned to conquer it?

Sometimes the memory of what I lost

on Earth beseiges me; it tears my heart

just like the Titan's(5) sharp-clawed eagle, but

as he endured it, so have I. Mine eyes

are dry as well, but not because I have

no moisture left that threatens to o'erspill.

Is that not what the gods desire – to see

we mortals weep? I swear to Heaven that

no tears shall ever fall upon these cheeks –

not for myself nor any other soul – to cool

the embers of my rage. I know but pride

and fury. All else lies buried with my bones.

What fools were the immortals when they let

mankind feel pride – like adding fire to clay

it made us difficult to break. But they broke you,

old man. Depart, you desperate wretch – you are

not I, and you shall have no pity, though like

a dog you worry at my heart. Go fade

away, you servant of the gods; go plead

for nothingness at Lethe's shore, and find

your peace! I'll never find mine here below

the earth, but only after I escape

again and take the things I left above!

A curse forever on my house, if my

descendants are so weak as you! Descend,

you worm, and creep you futher underground

to feed upon the rotten remnants of

the living world, just as the worms e'en now

are feasting on your body's flesh! Enjoy

your peace! Worms – Oh, how crawls the Underworld

with worms, just like a coffin's sundered floor!

Do I alone remain a man!? Farewell,

Grandchild – my greetings to your newest kin!

Though Geras led you to the plains of Hell,

you willing came, and killed yourself as well!

* * *

A/N: Hate him yet? Well, I hope you don't HATE him. :) In the next act, Sisyphus meets the shade of his erstwhile immortal wife, Merope, and the issue of whether he's ever going to escape will be resolved...

(1) One version of the legend holds that while Glaucus raised him, Bellerophon's father was actually Poseidon – which would make him not Sisyphus's grandson by blood. I don't buy it; Bellerophon had too much of Sisyphus's ambition.

(2) A Titan; personification of memory

(3) The satyr Silenus

(4) A spring near Corinth

(5) Prometheus


	4. Act 4

A/N: Act Four is complete. I tweaked Merope's story slightly for the purposes of the play: typically, she's said to shine less brightly than the other six Pleiades because she regrets having married Sisyphus and feels ashamed, but I thought it would be more interesting if she were still in love with him. Besides, she must have seen _something_ in him, or she wouldn't have married him. I tried to draw out what that something might have been.

Hope you like it. As always, please leave a review. : )

* * *

_SISYPHUS resumes rolling the boulder as the CHORUS begins to sing._

CHORUS

_Strophe_

Prometheus, who pitied man,

And brought to Earth a stolen brand

To elevate the mortal race

Above its darkness and disgrace,

Was damned for gifting men with fire

To suffer on the highest spire

Of wind-swept Caucasus; enchained

And tormented, yet he retained

His dignity, and would not plead

For Zeus's mercy, nor concede

His fault, and as the eagle rent

And tore his heart, would not repent;

With firmness he endured his punishment.

_Antistrophe_

But though the pride upon thy brow

Is noble, Sisyphus, yet thou

Wast of a mortal woman born

And not a goddess, and we warn

Thee not to bear the Titan's pain,

For it will suffocate and drain

Thy strength, or bitter fury will

Consume and swallow thee, until

Thou scornest all the world, and hate

The fellow men who share thy fate.

O fallen king, we caution thee

To pity them, or thou wilt be

Alone in anger and in misery.

_Epode_

But who is this? A phantom maid

Approaches us; how unafraid

She seems to be, though red and fresh

The blood bestains her shrouded chest.

She is too youthful to have known

A gentle death, yet of her own

Resolve she enters here, beside

Lord Thanatos, and keeps her stride

Apace with his, each step without

A hint of timidness nor doubt,

And in her sunk but eager eyes

We see no sorrow nor surprise;

Perhaps this woman caused her own demise.

_Enter THANATOS, leading the shade of MEROPE, widow of SISYPHUS. Although her age is great, she still appears to be a young woman.(1) She is robed in a white burial shroud, which covers her long violet hair, and her face is pale and ghostly, but she brightens and smiles when she sees her husband._

SISYPHUS

I know you, lady, yet it cannot be…

Is't you, my brightest star, my Merope?

MEROPE

My husband, Sisyphus – !

SISYPHUS

Tell me, is't you?

MEROPE

Yes, 'tis your wife, my king – I've come to you!

_She attempts to approach SISYPHUS, but THANATOS grasps her arm._

MEROPE

Let go, I beg thee –

SISYPHUS

_(to Thanatos)_

But one final moment!

Withhold your claws, you wretch, and let us share

a last farewell, or I shall break these chains

and strangle you with them!

MEROPE

_(as Thanatos releases her)_

A last farewell…?

SISYPHUS

Come hither, shade; I do not yet believe

that you are who you claim to be. This hair

unkempt, this ashen skin, these hollow cheeks

and eyes are not the features of my wife.

MEROPE

_(stepping closer)_

I vow to you that it is I, your queen.

SISYPHUS

_(dismayed)_

How is it possible that you are dead?

You were a star, immortal with your sisters

the Pleiades, by Titan Atlas sired;

you never aged, and were not bound to die.

As I grew old your loveliness remained;

my beard turned hoary while your tresses kept

their heavenly allure, and yet your heart

never renounced its loyalty to me.

What happened to you, wife; why are you here?

MEROPE

I have become a mortal, and have died.

SISYPHUS

What god, what enemy of mine has done this?

MEROPE

No one, my lord; I did it to myself.

I gave up immortality because

I wished to die and be with you again;

my bones now lie with yours, and I am here.

SISYPHUS

This cannot be…

MEROPE

You see that I am here.

Look you – here flowed the blood from mine own heart.

SISYPHUS

_(suddenly furious)_

What rash imprudence; what childish foolery!

You should have waited for me, trusted that

I would escape this sepulcher again!

Disgraceful and unthinking woman! Did

you lose your faith in me!? Did you forget

that I enchained the very hands of Death,

that I outwitted Hades' queen, that I

would conquer Zeus himself if he dared leave

his citadel to challenge me!? Am I

so pitiable, like a wounded dog

crouched mewling on the floor, that you must stoop

to tend to me!? Away your wraithlike hands!

Why came you here to slight me, Merope!?

MEROPE

_(backing away from him, shocked)_

I meant no insult! Why have I earned these words?

SISYPHUS

'Tis vain to hide your face – you have no blood

to flush your cheeks, nor tears to wet your eyes!

MEROPE

Forgive my error – I should not have come.

SISYPHUS

You would gain naught from my forgiveness now.

Away; plead you to Thanatos, not me.

MEROPE

_(upset, but standing her ground)_

You misconceive me, husband, and 'tis you

who with your bitter words have slighted me!

I trusted in you more than any man

on Earth or god in Heaven! I helped deceive

the Maiden(2): when you died you told me not

to bury you nor give you kingly rites,

and I did not, although it broke my heart

to see your corpse neglected, left without

its consecrations, for the dogs to sniff

and gnaw. What wife could bear to heed such vile

commands, unless she trusted you above

the gods – above the laws of life and death?

You kept your promise and returned to me,

and so relieved and happy was I then

that I imagined you would never die,

but that your confidence and cleverness

had earned you immortality, and that

we two would live together midst the stars.

Then Hermes, messenger of Zeus, was sent

to tear you from mine arms again. There was

no time for you to make me promises,

nor give instructions. Hermes told me that

you never would escape; he told me of

the boulder that you would forever roll,

and of the golden shackles that would bind

you, and –

SISYPHUS

– you thought such things would keep me here?

You thought a rock and chain enough to tame

me, like a common beast? The gods could bind

me to the frosted Caucasus, or crush

me under Etna's weight, or lock me in

the Titans' bronze-walled gulf, and still I would

escape! I said that I would never die.

You lost your faith in me –

MEROPE

Then so I did!

I lost it when I lost count of the years

since you had died, and when my hands were stained

with wine from the libations that I poured

for you, and when I watched our sons consumed

on fun'ral pyres, and still your bones lay cold!

You did die, Sisyphus. If I have lost

my faith in you, then you have lied to me.

SISYPHUS

_(turning away, seething)_

With you my house's ruin is complete.

MEROPE

Please, husband –

SISYPHUS

_(indicating Thanatos)_

We have no ties of wedlock now.

You took another suitor, madam, and

it is a pity that you gave your heart

to him – he is a crueler man than I.

Be gone, and pluck the flowers of the dead,

just like you gathered living roses on

the hills of Corinth for our wedding day.

MEROPE

I will not go, and I will call you husband!

Has it dishonored you so greatly that

I killed myself to be with you, and kept

my oath to stay forever at your side?

Would you prefer that I forsook it and

abandoned you – would that not shame you more?

I did not make my marriage vow to you

impulsively nor lightly, for as I veiled

my starlike hair and stood upon the earth,

and placed my radiant hand within your strong

but dimmer one, I knew that I had pledged

myself not just to you, but to the mortal world.

My deathless father, Titan Atlas, and

my noble mother Pleione, and all

my sisters in the stars condemned our bond.

They taunted me and said that you would die,

and that our sons would die, polluted by

the mortal blood that you had given them –

SISYPHUS

And so they have. You should have married with

a deathless god –

MEROPE

– I never could have loved one!

_They stand in silence, SISYPHUS with his back still turned. MEROPE stares at him, distraught. When he gives no answer she begins to speak again, her voice heavy with emotion._

MEROPE

I speak the truth, my husband. I never have

regretted wedding you, and e'en when all

our sons were dead, and I resumed my place

among my sisters in the nighttime sky,

I never once concealed my face in shame

for you – I only paled in loneliness.

"Oh little sister," asked the Pleiades,

"why is your light so weak? Your lilac hair

has lost its shine; your eyes have faded and

your flesh, that sometime glimmered, now grows dull

as though a candle flame entombed in wax.

Do you still grieve your husband Sisyphus,

that wicked mortal man who spurned the gods?

You were a fool to give your heart to one

unable to forever cherish it;

he took it with him to the Underworld.

Leave him below the earth and take it back.

Be cheerful here among your sisters; dance

with us across the starry sky, and if

you long to know a husband's touch again,

accept a god as suitor, as have we."

But I could not forget you, and I paled

still weaker, until I seemed to vanish from

the sky. Ah, Sisyphus – I do not know

why you so longed for immortality.

The length of life means nothing if it is

unhappy, and mine was vacant as the space

behind the stars, and as unchanging as

the Ocean's ever-circling stream. Each night

I rose together with my sisters and

paraded with them 'cross the sky, but while

they danced in glitt'ring gowns I drifted, robed

in mourning black, above the graveyard world.

Again and yet again I rose and fell,

so purposeless, just as your burden rock

must fall again each time it nears the peak.

I missed your comfort, and the sheltered warmth

I felt beside you in our marriage-bed;

I missed our walks along the city wall

beside our sons, and more than that I missed

your solemn contemplations, and the sweet

despair I could not understand, but that

I pitied, Sisyphus – the sorrow that I fell

in love with, and whose bitterness I tried

to match with sweetest sympathy. You had

a depth within your sad and darkened eyes

unknown to all but mortal men. I loved

that depth; I loved your misery, because

you bore it, Sisyphus – and though you robed

yourself in shadows, yet you outshone all my

immortal suitors, as the cloud-draped moon

glows brighter than the clearest stars.

I even loved your fury as you cast

it at the gods; I loved the burning in

your voice that warmed me even but to hear

it, and the ember that you made to glow

within my heart as I was helping you.

How strange that I, the daughter of a god,

could feel no pride until a mortal man

awakened it in me! From in the stars

where once I made my home, so far above

the world, I saw but its smooth surface, like

a painted vase adorned with gentle seas

and verdant meadows, but you drew me down

into the vales that I had never seen,

and let me glimpse the true terrain of Earth.

I knew of the unfading amaranth,

whose flowers I would twine within my hair;

you showed me the red mourning hyacinth,

and fragile white anemone that blooms

to scatter all its petals in the wind.

I knew the fragrant laurel wreathes, that crown

men blessed by the gods; you showed me leaves

dispersed around the pomegranate trees

in winter, dried and colorless amid

the pungent fruit decaying in the frost.

I knew of stars that ever shine, and of

the brilliant sun, and of the smiles of gods;

you showed me briefest-glitt'ring fireflies, and

the somber moon that hides her face to grieve

their waning, and the tears of mortal men.

Once you were dead, who showed me all these things,

how could I rise again into the heavens

and smile upon the Earth? How could I let

immortal suitors kiss my hand and bring

me presents of ambrosia, or sing

to me of endless beauty and delight,

or share with me their petty rivalries?

That world was artificial, meaningless.

When I could bear my loneliness no more

I went to speak with dark Persephone,

the wife of Hades, in the springtime when

she dwells on flowered Earth. I begged that I

might visit you among the shadows in

her husband's kingdom – even but to glimpse

your phantom form – yet she denied me, as

we had offended her, and told me none

but lifeless shades may enter Hades' realm.

No pleading nor remorse could soften her.

Although she was a wife herself, she felt

no pity for my widowhood, and charged

that I but planned to set you free again.

Then desperately I asked if I might lose

my immortality and die, for that

would mean I never could escape with you.

She stared at me, confusion in her dark

disdainful eyes, and said no god nor goddess

had ever wanted such a thing, though men

and woman often pleaded to be made

immortal. She asked me if I understood

what death was, and although I answered no,

I said that I was not afraid of it,

if it would let me be with you again.

She smiled at last – though icily, as smiles

the distant sun in winter – and withdrew

from in the garland that adorned her hair

a starlike flower, white as bloodless skin,

an eerie ghostlike thing that scorned the light

and seemed the converse of a living bloom.

She called it asphodel, the flower of

the dead, who feed upon its petals in

the Underworld. If I should swallow it

it would be poison to me, and destroy

my immortality. I took it in

my hand and felt it chill my fingers like

a flower carved from ice, but raised it to

my mouth and placed its petals on my tongue.

Pain wracked my body, strangled me and whelmed

my consciousness. When I awoke I was

enfeebled, but a heart was beating in

mine aching chest to tell me I was mortal.

How strange I felt – how new and harsh were all

the world's sensations! The wind that used to but

caress my deathless skin now chilled my flesh

and made me tremble, though the sun now seemed

to burn like fire, and made me shield mine eyes.

I cringed to place my naked feet upon

the pebbled earth; the softest grasses scratched

my legs, and the wild yellow roses, though

their scent was sweeter than before, now snared

my sleeves and lanced my fingers with their thorns.

I felt as though a child's new toy, unflawed

for but a moment, that the world was soon

to bruise and leave in tatters, and I knew

at last why mortal men so seldom praise

the loveliness of Earth, but set into

their poetry but sorrow and despair.

I wished to live no longer in that world.

I wrapped my body in a burial shroud

and placed an obol coin beneath my tongue,

as I have seen the dead prepared, then plunged

a blade into my feeble heart and watched

the crimson blood pour out. As I collapsed,

and as a darkness swallowed me, I felt

mine eyes grow damp – my first and only tears.

Could they have been for that same world that bruised

and battered me, whose thorns had scratched my thumbs?

But they did not stay long upon my cheeks.

When I regained my sense, my form had changed

again – my flesh had lost its firmness and

become like mist, and I could feel no pain.

Before me flowed the deathly Acheron,

its surface veiled by coils of murky fog.

The Boatman let me cross, and then I felt

the warmthless hand of Thanatos upon

my arm, and begged he guide my soul to you.

_She moves closer to SISYPHUS, her voice soft and pleading._

O Sisyphus, my lord, why lookest thou

so grave? Thou hast a sorrow in thine eyes

that I have seen in neither man nor god;

how shadowed and how dark they have become.

Why dost thou not receive me as thy wife,

thy consolation – thine in life and death?

Is't so unbearable that we are here,

that I have lost my beauty, thou thy freedom,

when we have left the earthly world behind?

Have we not stillness, silence, permanence:

a peace impossible for living men?

Are we not yet immortal, in our way?

If thou art bound in chains to roll thy rock

forever, I am thy confederate.

O sweet my husband, turn me not away,

but pity me my loneliness; forgive

the desperate act that brought me back to thee.

Embrace thy phantom wife, thy star that died;

my home is not the heavens, but thy side.

CHORUS

Feel pity for her, Sisyphus, or Death

himself will have a softer heart than thee.

SISYPHUS

_(reaching out to her)_

Come Merope – you have but little time.

MEROPE

But there is time unending here –

SISYPHUS

Come close!

_She approaches him and they reach for each other, but SISYPHUS'S hands only pass through his wife's incorporeal form._

SISYPHUS

Already 'tis too late. You are but shadow.

MEROPE

We both are dead – why can I not embrace you?

SISYPHUS

You are a common shade, and cannot keep

your body, as I have. Your breath will ebb

away; your memories of life will fade,

and soon your lovely eyes will see me not.

MEROPE

Persephone has lied to me – she said

that I would know you and remember you!

SISYPHUS

This trick was her revenge for our deceit.

MEROPE

My voice already fades…

SISYPHUS

Your cheeks grow paler.

MEROPE

_(to Thanatos)_

I beg thee, god of Death, let me recross

the Acheron and reach the living world!

THANATOS

You lost your immortality. It is

impossible for you to live again.

MEROPE

I beg thee by my father Atlas, who

supports the heavens with his arms, and by

my mother, and my grandfather the Ocean!

THANATOS

Your father could be Zeus himself, but you

are dead, and you will dwell among the shades.

MEROPE

_(sinking to the ground in despair)_

O Sisyphus, forgive my foolishness.

I thought I understood your scorn for death,

but though I pitied it, yet it could not

be mine – and only now my bloodless heart

can feel your sorrow's depth, and only now

I comprehend the shadows in your eyes.

Dear husband, I have breached my marriage vow;

forgive me, that I leave you here to bear

your suffering without my consolation.

SISYPHUS

Unselfish to the end. Pity me not,

sweet nymph, but only pity you yourself.

MEROPE

_(reaching out to him, her voice fading out, her thoughts already confused)_

Wilt thou not touch me, rose's thorn? I would

give all the world to feel thy sting again.

I fear not pain, but absence of its bite;

I fear not shadows, but the vanished light;

I fear not dreams, but oh – the dreamless night…

_SISYPHUS reaches toward her, but it is too late; her hand falls to her side and she stares at him with empty, unrecognizing eyes. Slowly she stands and rejoins THANATOS, her shrouded head bowed._

SISYPHUS

Come hither, Merope…

THANATOS

Your wife is gone.

SISYPHUS

Not yet. Come here –

THANATOS

_(grasping her arm)_

She cannot understand.

SISYPHUS

_(low and angry)_

Release her. Give her back to me; she was

my queen, and e'en her fleshless ghost is too

exalted for your fest'ring hands to touch.

THANATOS

I must direct her to the deathly plains.

There is no way for her to stay with you.

SISYPHUS

Release her, wretch! How cowardly you are

to steal from me while I am chained, just like

a rat that pilfers from a kenneled dog!

Loose your unworthy fingers from her arm,

or in my fury I shall break my bonds!

THANATOS

Your threats are useless, phantom. You will not

escape, nor will you save your wife from death.

Your children drift upon the plains, and she

will join them there, though she will know them not.

Only mine own unearthly sword may break

your chains. Give up the pride that you have kept

so many years; just like a wound it but

disfigures you and makes you pitiful.

You cannot splice your severed thread of life.

Be silent and resume your burden, ere

the sharp-clawed Furies come to torture you.(3)

_THANATOS begins to lead MEROPE away. SISYPHUS hesitates, trembling with rage, then reaches out a hand._

SISYPHUS

Return; but bring her to me one last time!

THANATOS

'Tis vain. She cannot speak, and will not know you.

SISYPHUS

I understand, but let me see her face

one final time. I beg thee bring her close

for but a moment – it is all I ask.

_THANATOS guides MEROPE to SISYPHUS, holding her with one dark hand._

SISYPHUS

How lovely is her hair, though dimmed by death.

Wilt thou remove her shroud and let it flow?

_THANATOS pulls MEROPE's shroud away from her head. While he is temporarily distracted, SISYPHUS lunges at him and seizes his sword from its sheath. He quickly uses it to slash through his chain. With a cry of rage he flings THANATOS against the great boulder, then drives the sword completely through the god's chest, pinning him to the rock._

SISYPHUS

Did you believe that you had conquered me!?

that I – King Sisyphus – would plead to you!?

Did I not bind your hands in your own chains,

and hold you captive in my very palace!?

Again I triumph, and in your domain!

I have defeated you in my world and

in yours! Can you still call yourself a god!?

Nay, you cannot; you are a dog, for like

a craven jackal you attack the weak –

you scavenge on the wounded in the field,

and hunt at night for sleeping infants in

their beds – but I have caught you now and stabbed

you through, and sneered at all your whimpers and

your howls! Bemoan your fate, just like the souls

you drag to hell! I would that I could make

you die, but I must leave you here, beside

your prey; she might have shown you pity had

you not destroyed her. Farewell, my Merope.

Stay here and let your vacant face torment him;

'tis crueler than the heaviest of rocks.

O witness this, Olympus; I am your

humiliation! Zeus, send after me

your lightning strikes; Poseidon, send your storms!

'Tis all in vain! What fools you were to let

me keep my self – my mind and memories –

for I have kept with them my boldness and

my cleverness! You made of me a god,

and 'tis too late to stop my transformation!

Let all of Heaven see my fate defied;

I rise again who fell; I live who died!

_Exit SISYPHUS, leaving THANATOS pinned to the rock and MEROPE, unthinking and unknowing, beside him._

* * *

A/N: There you have it. Poor Merope -- I wanted so badly to let him touch her, even just one last hug, but it wasn't possible. Now he's escaped, but will he reach the living world? And how long with the sword hold Thanatos? (hint: not long) Things are finally resolved in the next act...

--

(1) The issue of Merope's immortality is a complicated one -- she was born a nymph, which means that technically she was NOT immortal. Nymphs had very long lifespans, but did eventually die. However, I figure she became immortal proper when Zeus transformed her and her sisters into stars. For the purposes of this story, I am assuming that that happened BEFORE she married Sisyphus. The story about her losing her immortality and dying is of course completely made up, as is the idea that the asphodel flower has the ability to make gods mortal. It seemed plausible.

(2) Persephone

(3) The Furies were sometimes depicted as guards or enforcers of punishments in Tartarus.


	5. Act 5

A/N: The final act is complete. Please tell me what you think; we authors feed on reviews, just like the dead on the flowers of Asphodel.

_-- _Leia

* * *

_Exit SISYPHUS, leaving THANATOS pinned to the rock and MEROPE, unthinking and unknowing, beside him. As the CHORUS sings, they recede into the darkness and the scene gradually begins to change._

CHORUS

_Strophe_

Now Sisyphus hath three times shamed

The gods, and thrice his fate refused:

When first Lord Thanatos proclaimed

His death, he by a cunning ruse

Beguiled the god to put his own

Immortal hands in fetters bound.

King Sisyphus, his death postponed,

Lived on til Ares dragged him down.

He bade his wife show no lament,

Nor cleanse him, nor his corpse inter,

Then with Persephone's consent

Returned to life to punish her.

And now again he hath defied

The heavens with his godlike pride;

With his immortal pride.

_Antistrophe_

Now reaches he the heavy gates

Of bronze, whose vicious sentinel

Tisiphone(1) keeps guard and waits

For men who seek escape from hell.

But though the blood-drops in her glare,

The fearsome lash she carries and

The serpents writhing in her hair

Would frighten any other man,

Yet Sisyphus with crueler eyes

But seizes her about the wrists

And flings her down, and in surprise

She like a cow'ring dog desists,

And watches with a helpless cry

The fearsome fugitive pass by;

Her prisoner pass by.

_Strophe_

Now where the deathly river flows

The Hellhound(2) paces to and aft

Along the bank, to savage those

Who seek to board the boatman's raft

And cross into the living world.

Upon his back a sharp-fanged wreath

Of serpents hiss; his lips are curled

To bare his triple sets of teeth,

But Sisyphus subdues the hound

By striking at him with the chains

That once his kingly wrists had bound.

Then reaching Acheron, he gains

Aged Charon's boat, and crosses o'er

The river to the lighter shore;

The river's earthly shore.

_Antistrophe_

Now he hath reached the gloomy maw

That joins the living and the dead;

And though we shadows watch in awe,

Yet colder grow our hearts with dread.

For Thanatos hath loosed the sword

That pinioned him, and leaves his snare;

Now like a hound he prowls toward

The passageway to Earth – beware,

Lord Sisyphus, where wilt thou hide?

How long wilt thou avoid thy tomb?

What living men will take thy side

When Hell and Heaven seek thy doom?

Though thou escaped, and thou art free,

Thou ever wilt a phantom be;

Thou wilt a phantom be.

_The scene has changed to the mouth of the Underworld at Taenarum, a cave overlooking the rugged coastline of the southern __Peloponnese.__ It is an early summer evening. SISYPHUS emerges from the cavern and pauses at its threshhold, gazing out upon the world he has not seen in so many years. His tirade at THANATOS and his difficult escape have tired him, and he is somewhat calmer than before. (Note that the CHORUS remains in its place beside the stage, but does not take part in this scene.)_

SISYPHUS

Have I escaped? Is this the mortal world?

Here sounds the living ocean, so unlike

the silent surface of the Acheron,

and here cicadas sing, their voices more

familiar and brotherly to me

than all the chorus of the human dead.

This sky extends unbound, no longer but

a coffin's lid, and hues I have not glimpsed

in all my years in Tartarus now paint it.

Yes, I have reached the earthly realm; I have

escaped from hell, and made a mockery

of all the gods who thought they could detain me.

_(examining his hands, the severed chains still trailing from his wrists)_

And yet my hands are cold – they have no blood

to heat them, and this air, though milder than

the chilling ether of the Underworld,

can warm them not. I seem to breathe it – aye,

it fills my chest – and yet its taste is stale;

did not the scent of flowers used to make

it sweet? There blooms the yellow fennel on

the slope, yet not as brightly as before.

Its hue has muted, faded, like her eyes.

Even the silver-glinting ocean's waves

are not as radiant as I remember them.

Though darkened by the sunset's fading light

this world is dimmed by something else than night.

_Enter THANATOS from the cavern, holding his sword. He stands a short distance behind SISYPHUS, regarding him silently. A grudging respect has complemented his scorn for the man._

SISYPHUS

_(without turning around)_

You have escaped, and come for me again.

THANATOS

Why have you not departed from this place?

SISYPHUS

_(his voice low and cold, but more controlled than before)_

I shall in time. You cannot conquer me.

THANATOS

It is no matter; the Furies will pursue

you, 'til they snare you with their claws

and drag you back into the Underworld.

SISYPHUS

I do not fear them, nor any of the gods.

THANATOS

You have a heart of adamant, but this

is recklessness, and you will suffer for it.

SISYPHUS

Then let me; I have suffered all my years.

THANATOS

If that is so, you brought it on yourself.

SISYPHUS

For what – that I was born a mortal man?

THANATOS

That you rejected your mortality.

SISYPHUS

Then blame the gods for cursing me with it.

THANATOS

Be grateful that they let you live an hour.

SISYPHUS

No one but slaves and captives say such things.

THANATOS

Where will you go? Your city, Corinth, has

another king; none of its people will

remember you, and none will welcome you,

a lifeless phantom and a fugitive.

SISYPHUS

It is no matter; I shall be alone.

THANATOS

Below the earth, at least, your fellow shades

gave you their comfort and their consolation.

SISYPHUS

That was in vain – I never wanted it.

THANATOS

What do you want? What value do you find

here in this world that you so longed to reach?

SISYPHUS

You cannot understand; you will not die.

THANATOS

Nay, I shall not. Be gone then, phantom; I

have no intent to capture you again,

for though a ghost, you have retained the strength

and vigor of a living man, and you

would fight with all the hatred in your heart.

I leave you to the talons of the Furies, who

will soon pursue you like a horde of wolves,

and tear your still unliving flesh from off its bones.

If you desire for anything like peace,

surrender now and willingly return.

SISYPHUS

_(bitterly)_

Like peace? You toy with me. How dare you speak

to me of peace, you who have haunted me

through all my life? You never have allowed

me peace. E'er since I left my cradle I

have sensed a shadow slinking after me.

I saw it – saw you – everywhere: between

the stars, behind the sunlight, in the eyes

of dead and living men, and even 'neath

the sweetness of my wife's caresses and

my children's smiles, and all the riches of

my kingdom. You were always watching from

the corners of mine eyes, and like a beast

that trails its bleeding quarry you pursued

me to the last hours of my life. How could

a man so hunted ever be at peace?

THANATOS

Phantom, I never hunted you; I but

awaited you, as I await all men.

SISYPHUS

What does that matter? Does the wolf not hunt

its prey, although it lies in wait for it?

THANATOS

I hear the curses of a thousand men

each day, but only when I claim their shades.

Throughout the greater portion of their years

they keep their thoughts from me, and are content.

SISYPHUS

So children are, before they learn of death.

THANATOS

Most men are not as fortunate as you.

You were a king, and ruled an envied city;

you took a goddess wife, who bore you sons

to carry on your house. You lived for years

beyond your fated hour of death. Yet still

you claim injustice, and you ask for more.

SISYPHUS

Aye, I had all these blessings, yet one curse –

but one – destroyed their meaning and their worth.

THANATOS

One curse?

SISYPHUS

That I was mortal, and must die.

You speak of all these things as if they were

a compensation. What did kingship bring

me? Robes and jewels, baubels and annointments –

are corpses not embellished in such ways?

A hundred kingdoms and a thousand sons

could never make me go to death at peace.

Cannot you understand? My life was no

less worthless or less futile than the child

that dies unborn within its mother's womb.

THANATOS

These words are strange and senseless to mine ears.

All men are born to die, yet some find peace.

SISYPHUS

If so they but deceive themselves, and feed

on fantasies of bright Elysium.

THANATOS

Such men are happy – is that not enough?

SISYPHUS

Were it enough, I would have joined with them.

THANATOS

You set yourself apart from them instead.

I cannot see why you have chosen this.

SISYPHUS

_(after a moment, quietly)_

Tell me, you wretch – do you feel nothing for

the men and women that you drag to death?

Have you no pity, no compassion? I know

that you have none for me – that is no matter –

but for my children and my grandchildren,

and for my guiltless wife…do you feel nothing?

THANATOS

I take to death those men whose threads of life

the Fates have severed. I can do naught else.

And no one knows – not man nor god, nor Zeus

himself – with what design the Fates conduct

men's lives, and weave their births and deaths. In truth,

phantom, I think that there is none at all.

_SISYPHUS is silent. He still has not turned to look at THANATOS, but continues to gaze out across the somehow foreign landscape. Something else is beginning to underlie his anger. The god of death watches him curiously._

THANATOS

What troubles you so greatly, shade? You vowed

to reach the living world, and now it lies

before you. If you truly think yourself

more powerful than death, depart this cavern

and live – why do you stand here motionless?

_There is another long moment of silence. When SISYPHUS finally begins to speak, it is more to himself than to THANATOS. The bitter anger in his voice has been tempered by sorrow._

SISYPHUS

So many years have passed since I have seen

these earthly things. I still remember them.

The view from Corinth's walls was like this, when

the sun had set: the flower-covered hills

sloped to the sea, beneath a sky still blushed

with rose, and on the dark horizon ships

would wander, trading places on the tide,

some drawing near to port and some departing.

Tomorrow, in yon shallows, boys and girls

might wade, just as my Glaucus once immersed

his toddling feet and fled the waves, and laughed

as they outpaced him. From the dunes my wife

and I would watch and smile, my hand upon

her swollen belly, hers upon my arm,

her hair so sweet with flowers and her breath

yet sweeter on my cheek, and for a moment

nothing would touch my heart but happiness.

The world embraced us then so mercifully.

I have not felt that mercy since – not once.

That peace lived fleetingly; it died and fell,

just like an autumn fruit whose sweetness turns

to sickly rot. The shadows came again.

E'en now the world is dark, although I thought

to see the sunlight when I left the dead.

Sweet Merope, what has become of your

immortal eyes, that even tearless used

to shine with sympathy and bring my heart

a briefest consolation? Now they stare

like burned-out stars. O Glaucus, child of mine,

what horror paled you as your death approached?

I knew that horror, even if I spurned thee.

And Grandson, have you found your peace, along

the banks of Lethe's numbing flow? Where drifts

your phantom now upon the plains, its eyes

unseeing and as blank as uncarved marble?

Ah, shadows, shadows – I had thought that I

had left them in the Underworld, but now

I see them everywhere: beneath the slope

of every hill, below the cresting waves,

and even feasting on the flowers like

a swarm of dark-winged moths. I fled

them, and they seized the world within their jaws.

They strangled everything – my wife and sons,

my house, and every man and woman that

I knew. They even wormlike burrowed through

the lofty wall of Corinth, and a day

will come when it will lie in ruins. I know

now why the world seems pale and muted: it

is dead, as empty as my hollow veins.

How lonely – 'tis the hardest thing of all,

to feel so lonely – but a man cannot

be otherwise; we all are strangers in

the grave. What dampness is this on my cheek?

In all my cold and still unliving form,

it is the only thing that has a warmth.

Then cast yourselves upon me, O you shadows,

and battle with my heart, and with my pride;

for all my sorrow and my suffering,

I yet can say that you will never break it.

_There is a long moment of silence. THANATOS, who has been listening quietly, finally speaks._

THANATOS

I cannot understand these sentiments;

they are beyond my deathless grasp. 'Tis clear

you have a mortal heart, King Sisyphus,

although perhaps you should have been a god.

SISYPHUS

_(finally turning to look at him)_

I would not choose to be, if it would mean

that I would be like you – unpitying

and without comprehension. Be gone, you dog.

Complain to high Olympus, curse me, send

the Furies after me, but never speak

to me again – you are not worthy of it.

_Exit THANATOS into the cave, leaving SISYPHUS alone again. The scene slowly begins to shift back to the Underworld as he speaks._

SISYPHUS

Farewell, thou earthly world. 'Tis only now

I know that thou wast never truly mine.

Farewell, ye hills and vales, ye meadows and

ye flower-covered glades, ye rugged peaks

where hunting dogs would bay, and ye green slopes

where olives grew, and where my sons would make

their playground; and farewell ye shores, where I

would walk alone and yearn to feel at peace.

Despite it all, at times I almost could.

If all the universe is shadow, then

I face it without fear. Ye hands, prepare

to feel yon boulder's roughness once again,

and thou sad heart, though drained of blood,

I know thou hast the power to endure.

Aye, thou art mortal – and of mortal flesh

the proudest and the strongest things are built.

Rejoin thy boulder, and resume thy climb;

endure thy burden to the end of time.

_SISYPHUS resumes rolling his boulder up the hill as the CHORUS begins to leave the stage._

SISYPHUS and CHORUS _(exodus)_

O ye who someday must descend

Into the dark of death's domain,

Ere ye forget your lives, and wend

Your way onto the dismal plain,

Seek out the shade who labors here,

Within his heart a bitter pride

And in his eyes a brimming tear.

Creep close to him, ye men that died,

And with your weak and fading breath

Converse ye with that fallen king,

And journey not alone to death,

But with your fellow phantoms sing

As all your waning senses dim

For mortal man a fun'ral hymn;

For man a fun'ral hymn.

_SISYPHUS continues to roll the boulder as the stage fades to black._

FIN

* * *

(1) A Fury

(2) Cerberus, the triple-headed dog who was said to guard the far bank of the Acheron

A/N: Well, that's it. This was rather challenging to write, though it was the ending I had always planned. I knew that nothing anyone could do – not Thanatos, nor the Furies, nor any of the gods – could ever make Sisyphus change. The only thing that could change him was himself. So I gave him everything he wanted, and let him realize that it wasn't enough. He escaped from death, but couldn't enjoy the world anymore, because everything he had ever loved in it was gone. What I wanted was for him to realize that death affects everyone – it isn't a personal curse from the gods to him. And with that realization he's able to identify with and pity the rest of mankind, and finally sing together with the chorus, which gives him the only "peace" that is possible for him. It's not a happy ending, but it was never going to be. I see his return to the Underworld not as an "acceptance" of death, nor as any kind of suicide, but as a decision to continue to exist in the world despite the fact that it is meaningless. I think that involves willingly experiencing feelings of anger and sorrow, but knowing those feelings are part of human existence and cannot be avoided. Sisyphus's error was thinking he could escape death. He realizes now that he can't, but determines to go on existing anyway. And in the end, I think that's all that any of us can do.

I have to say I still think my first play "The Chromenos" was better, overall – but I got of a lot of enjoyment out of this one too, and I think -- or I'd like to think -- that my use of verse improved. I can tell I'm going to miss Sisyphus a lot. sniff


End file.
